Don't Touch Me
by FractureFic
Summary: The man before him was falling apart, and everything behind what he said and did screamed to be held, kissed, mended, touched. But he still all-but begged for the opposite. RoyEd
1. Chapter 1

Don't Touch Me

Edward had been acting strangely lately, and not in the way Roy had half-expected.

He'd figured things would change; it would have been stranger if they hadn't after all that was said and done the night before. But he'd thought the changes would be, well, for the better. He knew Ed would still shriek and rant if he ripped on the younger man's height, but now he would know that he teased to watch the flush explode across his face, to laugh at his exaggerated reactions. He knew Ed would still refer to him as "colonel bastard", he just heard it differently in his head, like a kind of twisted nickname.

What he had not expected was to be so completely and utterly ignored.

At first as he tried to work on the various files and folders stacked before him, Roy had thought that it was probably because they weren't alone in the office. Breda, Falman, Havoc, Feury, Hawkeye, they were all busy and oblivious. Ed had always been a private person, maybe he just didn't want anybody to know. That was fine, he could live with that, but there was a tension, a very deliberate avoidance of eye contact that belied the implication.

The minutes of boring paperwork dragged by like hours before noon struck, and the majority of the office staff breathed sighs of relief and fled to the mess hall. Edward began putting his things away to follow.

"Edward." It was not a complete sentence, but Ed neither looked up to see what he was being called for, nor did he pause to hear what would be said afterward.

Roy frowned, slipping out from behind his desk and crossing the small office in a few steps to lay a hand on the blond alchemist's shoulder as he stated toward the door.

Edward all-but slapped his hand off with a hiss.

"Don't touch me, asshole."

Roy stood, frozen as Edward stalked his way out of the office and disappeared into the hallway. He let his hand drop.

"Okay" he muttered to himself "I misunderstood something somewhere."

The night before had been a gamble, there was no question about that. And usually Roy wasn't the type to take a chance unless he was more than ninety percent certain it would benefit him. With Ed it had been fifty-fifty at best.

But everything about Ed was a gamble, because Ed was unpredictable. He'd always played by his own rules. It had been almost two years since Ed had returned from the other side of the gate for good, he'd be celebrating his twentieth birthday soon, and that still held true. He was a marvel of power and skill, and he was a loose cannon. By all rights anyone with common sense should have been scared spitless of the pipsqueak. But they weren't. Roy at least had never felt anything similar to fear or misgiving about him, he enjoyed watching him defy all the odds again and again. It was what made him who he was.

Odds, however, had not been anywhere near his line of thinking when he'd bumped into Edward on the street. He still wasn't sure how they'd come from insults to banter to mild flirtations to falling through fire and stars and the taste of salt and sun. It wouldn't change anything to know how one thing had led to another anyway. The point was what he did know; he did know that Edward had not protested to anything in the remotest sense of the word. He did know that he had not been the only one taking action, and he remembered clearer than a bell the sound of the contented sigh against his chest, the feeling of a hot-blooded heartbeat next to his.

So, it begged a question.

Which was why Edward was currently standing before the closed door of his office while the rest of the staff did business in other parts of the building for a little bit, as was usual when colonel Mustang wanted to talk to someone in private. They probably didn't mind, the tension in the office had been kept up since Ed walked into it, and it was exhausting.

"What the hell, Edward."

It was half a statement, half a question, and Roy was beyond caring which it was taken as.

"You wanted me for something, Colonel?"

The use of the deliberate honorific stung so much he almost flinched. "I want to know why you're avoiding me" he said, tiredly. He was sitting in Falman's seat, having not bothered to return to his desk. That would have felt too formal anyway.

Edward remained silent, staring at his boots.

"Won't you at least look at me?"

He looked up, slowly, gold eyes narrowed in a glare that hurt almost as much as the refusal to use his name.

"I think" he said, slowly, grating each word out "last night was a huge mistake. I think you'd better forget it and let me do the same."

"A... mistake?" Roy stood up when Ed turned around and reached for the door. "I don't believe that."

"Well, believe it." Ed dropped his hand from reaching out in favour of clenching his fists at his side. "Winry and I are engaged, have been for a few weeks. I didn't want to cause a fuss saying anything."

Time stopped, Roy had been making his way toward Edward to stop him from leaving, but he stopped in place also. A faint buzz covered his thoughts a he tried to comprehend.

"....what?"

"That's as it should be, don't you think?" there was a note of resignation in Ed's voice, or was that just wishful thinking? "Winry and I have always been around each other since we were little. It's always sort of been expected that we'd stay together. It doesn't make a difference where my home is, whether I like men or women, whether or not I like you." He frowned, and lowered his gaze again. "Winry and Risembool, they've always been my safehouses; the last places uncorrupted by everything that's happened. I can't let anything bring more sadness or confusion than is already there, not even me."

"So that's it, then. You're just going to act as if nothing happened?"

"Yeah, pretty much. What else can I do? If Winry found out about anything that.... happened, you know, between you and me, I'm sure she'd cry. I promised I wouldn't let that happen."

"And what about you?" he laid a hand on Edward's shoulder, and when he didn't flinch away, took the other also and turned him around. "Are you trying to tell me this doesn't bother you at all? I can read you like an open book, Edward, and you've been miserable all day!"

"It's better if you don't touch me any more, Roy." He'd turned his head aside, but there was a tremble in his voice.

"Edward..." gently he tilted the younger man's chin upward, leaning forward.

"Please!" Edward had ducked forward, gripping the lapels of his military jacket and burying his face in the fabric that smelled faintly of gunpowder. "Please don't kiss me again because I already know, okay? I already know that you taste like smoke and sparks and feel like fire and that the clock will stop turning and I'll never want to let go because you move me more than anybody else, I already know all that so please, please..."

Roy started to close his arms around the shaking blond, but Ed gave a muffled cry as if he'd been pricked with something sharp, and stepped backward, wiping his eyes on one sleeve hastily. "Please don't touch me any more; it's hard enough as is"

He surveyed the shattered youth a moment, nothing seemed to make sense today. The man before him was falling apart, and everything behind what he said and did screamed to be held, kissed, mended, touched. But he still all-but begged for the opposite. He reached one hand out.

"Please!"

The word echoed in his head. Ed had never begged for anything before.

"Don't touch me!"

Roy would have laughed if he felt able, the words conveyed such obvious meaning, but every action that went with them desperately denied them. He wanted to take one more step forward, close the distance between them and hold him till he stopped struggling, he wanted to smooth away the fear reflected in the gold eyes, wipe the hot tears from beneath them and tell him it didn't have to be this way.

Except, so far as Edward seemed to see, it did. If he was to have any stable remnant of normalcy to cling to, it had to be.

"That's... that's really what you want?"

The silence was thicker than Ed's voice when he finally replied. "Yeah."

He was lying; he could always tell, Ed always tried to smile when he lied. Roy felt a weight growing on his shoulders, it sounded like someone else's voice talking through his mouth. "I'm writing you some paid leave" Roy said, feeling rather shaky, himself as he turned around and started for his desk. "Go home, Edward. I hope you'll be happy"

Ed took the paper without a word, and Roy had his back to the door when he heard it close. Silence filled the room like deep water, and the pressure threatened to implode his chest. He slumped to a seat behind his desk and buried his head in his folded arms.

Slowly, like a record tape, he played out everything Edward had said in his mind. It didn't make sense; Edward said it himself, they were _good. _ Before his death, Maes had once laughingly said he was ambition personified. Hawkeye had said more than once that he seemed incapable of giving up on anything. Well, it was true, and he could not let go of Edward so easily.

"All right." He murmured into the woodwork of his desk "I won't touch you. Never again; and I hope you know you've ruined things for me. Nobody else can be like you; but I won't break you from your world if you want so badly to keep it together. But I won't let you forget what happened, either. I won't touch you, but I'll be there."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I had so many people ask for it, and I myself thought that this story needed tying up, that I've extended it by one chapter.

Enjoy!

A summer night's breath brushed past Ed's cheek like a cool hand, and he closed his eyes, it was strange how such a simple thing could bring one back.

He'd had the window open, and the night was just as cool brushing the curtains aside and stirring the steam from the coffee mug before him up into the air.

"I figured I'd find you down here."

Edward looked up and then back down once he'd registered the blond at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey Win."

"Al goes for the river, and you go for the fridge. I heard you get up."

She pulled out a chair across the small table, folding her hands and resting her chin on them. She'd not bothered to change out of the oversized blouse and shorts she wore for pyjamas, and her hair was loose, falling in soft gold waves across her shoulders. Edward stared at the table.

"So what's up, Ed? You haven't said two words since you got here."

He shrugged.

She sighed. "You can tell me, of all people, you know." The mechanic looked down, and twirled the ring around on her finger. "I thought you'd at least be excited to see me."

"I am."

"Ah, he speaks!"

A smile cracked its way onto his face, Ed drummed his fingers on the side of the untouched coffee mug. "You can go back to bed, Winry, I'm just thinking."

"I'm not stupid, Edward."

He looked up at that.

"If something's bothering you, you can tell me; it hurts me when you don't. I want to help you, Edward, even if it's just by listening."

Edward snagged his bottom lip between his teeth and looked down. "It's complicated, Win, just go back to sleep, okay?"

Silence; staring at the wooden table, Edward listened for the familiar scraping of a chair being pushed away from the table, but it didn't come. The quiet of the night dragged on before he finally started to draw a breath to speak again; she beat him to it.

"You were... with someone else, weren't you?"

There was no accusation in her voice, no anger or judgement. Hurt lined the words thinly like icy lace and made him swallow. Something intangible kept words locked away from his tongue, so he only nodded, mute.

"I... I see."

The old table squeaked a bit; she'd probably moved to lean on it more.

"I'm not mad at you."

He swallowed again; it felt like something was choking him from inside, and the pressure was making his eyes feel hot.

"Edward?"

"I'm sorry I hurt you again."

"But not sorry you did it." She took a deep breath, and let it out just as slowly. "That's it, isn't it?"

"I'm so confused."

"I can tell."

Edward pushed himself to be sitting up straight again; he tried taking a drink of the mug in his hand, and grimaced before pushing it away; it'd gone cold, and he'd neglected to put anything in it. Cold and bitter.

"So can I know who?"

It was a wonder there was any moisture left in his mouth at all, the young alchemist kept swallowing so much. He looked back up and shook his head. No, that was the whole point; to keep this confusion, this... this gigantic forbidden, confusing, life-shattering THING away from Risembool, away from Winry and Al and Granny and the rest of his refuges. Safety zone – he never guessed it would be so tense inside a bubble.

"I just want-" He was surprised to find his voice catching, and took a second to steady himself. "I just want everything to be normal – peaceful. For once."

"But it's too late for that, isn't it?"

She'd lowered her gaze to her interlocked fingers, speaking quietly. "I don't pretend to know what's going on in that head of yours half the time – I probably wouldn't understand it if I did – but I can see, just from looking at you, you're carrying something heavy and its yours to deal with, not to run away from."

There it was, that scraping of chair legs against hardwood.

"I think its best you take this back, Ed."

A golden 'ting' sound followed the ring being placed gently in front of him. Edward's eyes doubled and he opened his mouth to protest, one hand closing over it.

"Edward." She silenced him with a finger. "I don't want to be married to someone who will never be one hundred percent mine."

He felt more than saw her hands on his shoulders. "I don't care about your body, Edward; what you've done doesn't matter. I would always forgive you, but... you've gone and given a part of your heart away, and I wanted the whole thing. But only if you wanted to give it to me; am I making sense?"

Edward nodded, and scraped the muteness away enough to squeeze through two words.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

The wind returned, gusting enough to knock his braid back over his shoulder; it'd flipped forward when he leaned to look over – it was a long way down.

He'd left the next morning, not sure what to do except go back to work. Yet even that was hardly relaxing.

Roy – no, the Colonel, it seemed, had decided not to let him forget what had transpired just prior to his departure. He'd never realised how many times the two of them had inadvertently touched before; bumping shoulders in the hall, a brush of fingers passing paper, a demeaning pat on the head, a hand on his shoulder. Handshakes, a punch on the arm, the simple, everyday touches. All gone.

It was an honest-to-god talent that someone could be so close and so distant at the same time. Worst of all he didn't seem mad. The colonel had accepted his return with the same resignation that he'd accepted his departure. But there had been no punishment – no grunt work, no glares, no insults, not even so much as a snide remark. He was being treated just like he'd asked; like anyone else, and just like he'd asked, Roy hadn't touched him. Not once.

After two weeks of it, Edward was ready to snap.

But what could he say? He couldn't ask to be treated like a friend when he'd exclusively demanded – begged, more like, to be treated as if nothing had ever happened between them. And he wasn't ready to be enemies. The office he trudged into each day had become a pressure cooker, and he seemed to be the only one feeling the heat. But where else could he go? He couldn't go back to Risembool; He'd put Winry through enough, he could at least give her space. But she was absolutely right; he'd lost his heart here, and he burned the bridge to get it back before he left.

Still, the rational part of his brain couldn't help squeezing up to say this was overkill.

But it could stop.

He could stop living in this pressure, he could escape this trap he'd built himself. He could just take a step forward into two storeys of empty night air and close his eyes and let go.

Of course, there'd be nothing to go on to. The dead could never come back

But really, what had he left himself to go back to?

He took a shuddering breath, drawing the coolness into his lungs, tasting the dew and faint fumes of Central, wondering if he would miss it.

Something cold and wet rolled down one cheek, and he closed his eyes, feeling his breath catch. He never thought he'd create a problem so huge he couldn't solve it himself. He never suspected he could feel this overwhelmed. He never thought he could be so stupid.

"you deserve better, anyway" he said, looking down.

He lifted one foot, and felt the wind sway him.

_Tap._

Searing light exploded across his vision, and heat rushed toward him in an invisible tidal wave, knocking him backward; the hard bricks reared up to meet him, and pushed the air out of his lungs. Stars shot down from the sky to dance on his eyes as he strained to breathe.

"EDWARD!"

Edward groaned, whether from the pain registering through his back and throat or from the voice his name sounded so good in he wasn't sure.

Two arms and the familiar scent of gunpowder and salt fell around him and pulled him to a sitting position.

"Christ, Edward, what were you thinking? I thought I heard you in the hall, am I glad I followed you, I – Edward?"

The military uniform was stiff and rough and not meant to be welcoming, but Edward couldn't breathe, and his grip on the jacket felt as tight as his chest; he was past caring about consequences as he gripped the man like a lifeline and tried to muffle his pathetically violent sobs in the front of his shirt.

The colonel stiffened around him, but Ed couldn't have stopped if he wanted to; this man, this burned bridge, the frame that relaxed and surrounded him, was his lifeline, and he wasn't ready to let go of it, now that he'd felt his grip slip.

Slowly, he dissolved into hiccups, and the chill of the night began to seep into his back between Mustang's arms.

"Why, Ed?"

Edward jerked a breath into his lungs and tried to speak – he really did. It just came out as a whimper too high even for his voice, which had never decided to sink anywhere near as low as Roy's.

"I'm s-so tired. I'm s-so t-tired of run-ning from w-who I am and" he drew a shaky breath, having not bothered to remove his face from Roy's shirt he was aware that his words must be barely intelligible, but when he felt a hand gently smoothing his hair, petting it down, he decided he wasn't going to move even if that button pressed a hole clean through his face "A-and I couldn't go home and I c-couldn't face you any more and-"

"Stupid."

Edward swallowed the rest of his sentence. Roy had lowered his head to rest against Ed's.

"Edward, you can ALWAYS come to me."

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe normally; he was so warm, so very warm, and the faint smells and textures that were one-hundred-percent Roy Mustang felt so very safe and what the hell tonight was an all-or-nothing night anyway and his word filter was offline as it usually was when the older man was around.

"I should never have left you"

"Damn straight."

Edward was praying to whatever god was still willing to listen to him that he wouldn't have to move ever again when Roy spoke

"...And Miss Rockbell?"

He released a sigh and shifted the infernal button out of his cheekbone. "Isn't stupid; she figured out what happened without my even saying anything and s-said" it seemed his voice wasn't as ready to talk as he was – "Said she wouldn't be with someone who loved someone else."

"Edward..."

"I want to have you back, Roy, i-if you'll still let me."

The worn fabric of a gloved hand found his chin and tilted his face upward.

"You are a fool, Edward Elric."

"I know."

"Cause there are things that are worth sacrificing everything for, even if it means throwing everything you know into chaos."

"I know."

Edward closed his eyes when he felt himself drawn into a kiss that was laced with nostalgia of a night gone by. It was slow, chaste, perfect.

"You look exhausted."

"I could fall asleep right here."

"Come home with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
